Artificial Tears
by Sparker
Summary: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
1. Part I

 #$$#$#$%#$% #$&*#&$*#&$ PROPER FORMATTING!!! ITS NOT WORKING! Ok, so from here on in remember that FIRST PERSON IS FLASHBACK AND THIRD PERSON IS NOW. Omg, I am going to kill FFN………………anyway, enjoy my dears!

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The telephone rings and she runs to it, wondering who could be calling her at this time of night.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Kelly?" the voice on the other end is gravely and sharp, short stattaco sounds that bespeak of discipline and hard work.

"Yes…………"

"This is Officer O' Conner of the NYPD. We're sorry, ma'am, but it seems that your husband has been shot………."

Her stomach twists at his words, jumbles of feeling passing through her body in one second. She drops the phone with a weak, limp hand and falls onto the sofa next to the end table. From on the mouthpiece she can hear a muffled voice frantically calling her name.

She settles into the soft, faded brown cushions and remembers………

***********************

I saw Jack Kelly for the first time when my brother brought him home. Tall and unbelievably handsome, I fell for him in a second, and when he had left later that night I peppered David with questions.

_"Who is he?" I asked my younger brother, who had just turned 16 two months ago. He looked back at me with his smiling blue eyes, a teasing glint making them glow._

_"He told you. Jack Kelly."_

_"No, I mean, where is he from? What's his background? C'mon, David, he must have told you something."_

_My brothers eyes shuttered close at my words, and I pulled back a little, wondering what I had done wrong. _

_"I don't know anything." He replied. And that was the end if it, for him._

_But not for me. Not even close._

_Through the next few months and even years, Jack and I grew steadily closer. Eventually, one bright spring day in April, beneath a sunny sky and the green leaves of "our" tree, he proposed to me, in the sweetest way imaginable  - simply, a kiss upon the lips sealing our pact to be together forever and ever._

_Papa wasn't happy about it at first. "How is a poor reporter going to support you?" He asked, sighing when he saw Jack's stained fingers and smudged face. But my fiancée's eager face and charming words won them over eventually – they had always liked him – and we were married._

_Ah, the white dress and candles, the flowers and cake and music……..nothing meant more to me, though, then Jack's beaming face and tender kiss when he finally kissed me as my husband. Yes, those were the good times…………._

_*************************************_

Sharp raps on the door pop her out of her trip down memory lane, and she struggles to remain upright as she walks to the door. Tripping slightly over the stained welcome mat, she opens the door to the two blue-clothed men standing on the other side.

"We're terribly sorry." The taller one says, gray mustache quivering along with his meaningless words.

"Thank you." She says, her emotions so close to the surface it's all she can do to keep from exploding.

"Ah, yes, well………." The shorter one says awkwardly, fidgeting with his cap that is clenched between his hands. "In these typed of, er, homicide cases, we need someone to come and identify the body."

"So sorry, Mrs. Kelly, truly." The taller one says again, and as he continues to talk she recognizes that this is the man who called her. She tunes in once again at the end of him monologue. "……….come with us down to the station."

"Excuse me?" she asks, not certain if she has heard him right. 

"You must come down to the morgue with us, you know, to see if this is really your husband." The shorter policeman says, running his fingers through his short black hair before replacing his wrinkled cap.

"And you are?" She asks. This officer looks a little young to be assigned to murder cases.

"Officer Black, ma'am. Er, would you be able to come with us now?"

"Terribly important that we get this over with – " Officer O'Connor beings.

"In order than we don't have another serial killer on the loose –" The other interrupts.

"And we can begin the investigation right away." O'Connor finishes, glaring at his partner.

She looks on in mild amusement, watching this battle of wills take place in front of her. "Of course, gentleman, I will be with you right away." She says graciously. "Just let me fetch my hat."

Obligingly, the two officers stand by the door and watch as this pretty young woman gathers her things. One on either side, they lead this surprisingly calm woman down the steps to the outside, escorting her into their police car gallantly before squealing off.

And she sits there and remembers once more, another time and another place, fingering a locket around her neck……….

******************************************

The first year of our marriage was heaven. Jack was the sweetest husband, an excellent lover, a wonderful potential father. Everything was all sugar and spice and all was nice; each day better than the next.

"Jack!" I would say at the end of each day, when he came home to a full-cooked meal and a clean house, pretty wife awaiting him.

"Sarah!" He would reply, his charming grin lighting up the room even more than the candles I tried to light whenever possible. He would pick me up, swing me around, and kiss me passionately, all the tension and strain of the day exploding every night at dinner. Sometimes we even forgot to eat…………..

We were the typical cliché couple, sugary sweet to each other in public and always pleasant. Jack worked, I stayed home and kept house. I was happy, even thought the feminist movement was starting at the time, and there were rumors of war in the air. I had no desire for either conflict.

For our first anniversary he got me a stunning necklace, a locket actually. One side was a cameo of myself; the other was a picture of him. On the front was inscribed "To Sarah Jacobs Kelly: Together for all eternity." Corny, yes, and Jack must have told the jeweler what to write – he was never good with sentimentalities.  

I had gotten him some little trinket; a studded tiepin, I think it was. Small and insignificant compared to the dazzle of his present, but he proclaimed he loved and stuck it in his tie right there.

God, how I loved him then. Hazel eyes melting as he looked at me, blond hair mussed from all the times his fingers ran through it. We finished the night with a beautiful dinner cooked by Jack himself, and a bottle of wine. 

I thought that life could never get any better.

*********************************************************

She gazes out the window at the passing lights, listening the chatter of the men in the front. At the details they did not tell her – 

"Shot through the head, he was, blimey, I ain't never seen anything like it before."

"Ah, you ain't seen nothing yet. All comes with the job."

She watches as they pull into the station, and Black comes around to help her out of the car. The night is frozen, stars in clear contrast to the inky blackness. She marvels at the beauty of it before being whisked into the gray building and down a flight of stairs to a brightly lit morgue. A desk and chair stood there, filled with a little man with a baldhead and heavy sideburns scribbling busily. 

"The newest stiff, Adams." O'Connor says shortly, gesturing to the little man. "Please, ma'am, right this way."

She walks past tabled of white-sheeted figures, swallowing the urge to gag. She never thought it would be this way………….

"Over here." Adams says, whipping a sheet off a table. "Bandaged his head, I did. Now you can't see the bullet hole. Bloody big one it was, too. Wonder who did him in?" He grins with relish at the possibilities, showing off crooked teeth.

"Oh my………." She sighs, swaying slightly.

"Terrible, ain't it?" Black mutters, looking over his shoulder suspiciously. "This is going to be one hell of a case."

"So? Is it your husband or not?" O' Connor asks, impatiently.

"Yes, yes it is………….." 

***********************************************************

Something started going sour about a year and half into the marriage. Things were still fantastic on the outside. But inside……..

Everything was off. The smiles were fake, the kisses forced, Jack's touch cold and unfeeling. 

I was panicked – what was wrong? Was it me? I tried my hardest to bring the romance back. I cooked better, bought sexier nightclothes, anything. For awhile it worked, and Jack was back to his old self, nice and funny and loving. He even brought flowers home for a solid week, for no particular reason  - violet roses, my favorite.

But it wore off soon enough. Nothing was wrong, per say, but the tension was so thick it was unbearable. Jack was gone at work all day, and those were my only times of relief. I started to visit my mother and my sister-in-law, Emily, much more.

"What's the matter?" Emily asked me one evening, as we sat together in her apartment knitting. I had just missed three counts, and was tugging at the yarn with such force it almost snapped.

"Nothing." I sighed, relaxing my grip on the soft blue strands. I was trying to knit a scarf for Jack.

"There must be something." Emily said after a pause. "I haven't seen you this depressed since Les went away to school and he didn't write you for three whole weeks.

I laughed softly at the memory. "yes, well, he did say he was going to write every day……..can you blame an older sister who practically raised him for being a little worried?"

"It's more than that this time, isn't it." Emily said, with her uncanny ability to know what was wrong without me even telling her. That's part of the reason she was such a wonderful person.

"Yes." I whispered, giving up the charade. "I don't know what to do. What's wrong with me? Is it him?" I threw the knitting into my lap and burst into tears.

"Oh, Sarah." Emily came over, hugging me tight as I sobbed into her shoulder. "Every relationship had problems from time to time! Don't worry, you'll pull through it, trust me."

"I – I don't think so." I hiccupped, wiping my eyes. "It's something, and I can't put my finger on it."

"Maybe – " She started, then stopped. "First tell me what's different."

"Well," I started, "It's a lot of little things." I thought hard. "For example, he's taking more time in front of the mirror every morning, but he doesn't come home till much later. Says he has to work on the paper. And he always looks guilty, and he blows up at me whenever I accuse him of something – not really, accuse, you know, more like 'who ate the last apple' type of thing – and he keeps bringing me little gifts, but they are always something I know we can't afford, and always all wrong for me."

I paused.

"Dear," Emily said, looking deep into my eyes, "Don't get mad at me, please. Promise me."

"I promise." I said, puzzled.

"Jack…………..he might be having an affair."

And then everything clicked.

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End Part I. More to come! Review!!


	2. Part II

Yes, people, I KNOW that this story is not the same without proper formatting…………..BUT……………arrggg. I don't want to get into it. GOD I COULD KILL…………………anyway. Enjoy! Remember: FIRST PERSON IS FLASHBACK, THIRD PERSON IS PRESENT DAY. 

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"Well, I guess that clears everything up. Wife says it's her husband. Adams, make a note of it." O' Connor says.

"Yessir." The little man scuttles off to his desk.

"Now, Mrs. Kelly……….you are going to have to come with me now." The older officer says, leading her to a small office up the stairs and to the left. She sits in a hard wooden seat, glancing around the windowless room, mind not on the ugly walls and chipped furniture. 

She is thinking about the body downstairs. Jack's pale face, a smear of dark red on his cheek. White bandage around his head, soaked with blood. Eyes closed forever. Lips ice, skin clammy, body oh-so-silent…………..

"Mrs. Kelly, please." O'Connor says. "We must conduct a routine investigation here. That means I have to fill out a lot of paperwork and ask you a lot of questions. I'm sorry," he says for the third – or is it fourth? – time that night, not really sorry at all.

"It is…………quiet alright." She says, snapping back to attention. "Please begin."

"Thank you." The man says brusquely, shuffling papers and removing a pencil from behind a dirty coffee mug. "Black will be here monetarily with your husbands things, stuff we don't need as evidence."

"Yes………."

"Lets begin. Where was your husband born?"

"I honestly have no idea, Officer." She says in wonderment. "He never told me…….."

"He never told you?" He asks in disbelief.

"His past was always………..something of a mystery with him."

"I see………well, then, what year was he born in?"

"I suppose sometime around 1882."

"So that would make him around 28?"

"That is correct."

"And when were you married?"

She falters for a minute before answering.

"In 1903."

"Quite young, for both of you." He looks piercingly at her, watches at the blush in her cheeks grows. 

"Yes, yes we were………………"

"No problems in your marriage? All was well?"

The question hangs in the air, a black weight. She pauses a minute before answering, reflects.

"No, Officer, none at all………….."

********************************************************

**Once Emily pointed it out to me, the truth was glaringly obvious. Jack was having an affair.**

**How stupid I had been! All the signs were there, staring at me in the face. Once I got home that night I watched Jack extra carefully, into the next morning. With each minute my conviction grew. My husband was cheating on me, and I was determined to find out with whom.**

**I followed him at first; the amateur I was at the time. When he left for work, I would wait around 10 minutes before leaving as well, a basket on my arm as an excuse. I cut through an alley I knew cut straight into Jack's route to work, and followed him from there.**

**He must have suspected something. He never went anywhere those morning – straight to the World office and back. Never varied. Occasionally, he would stop at a street vendor to buy a bun or something, but that was it.**

**I kept it up for a month before abandoning the plan and deciding on another course of action.**

**I hired a private detective. Race, in fact, Jack's old friend. He had started a practice a few years back, and he was the only one I felt comfortable going to. He had always liked me, and charged me almost nothing for his services.**

**Sashaying into this office one Monday morning, I was greeted with a huge smile.**

**"Sarah Kelly! Never though I would see you again!"**

**"Anthony." I shook hands with the short Italian, grinning as well. It was good to see him again; he had always been my favorite newsie, so long ago – besides for Jack, of course.**

**"Please, sit down! Tell me everything! How's Jackey-boy doing? Does he know you're here?"**

**"No, he doesn't." I said seriously. "And he's the reason I'm here in the first place. Please don't tell him, Higgins."**

**"Why happening?" He asked, mystified. Lighting up a cigar, he regarded me with his intelligent brown eyes.**

**"I think he's having an affair." I stated, bluntly. "Actually, I know he is. I want you to find out with who."**

**"Whom." He corrected absentmidly, fiddling with his cigar. "What makes you suspect this?"**

**"There are all the typical sings of an affair here." I said coldly, all business. "I am not going to be a beaten little 'unknowing' wife. If he is cheating on me, then I want out of this marriage."**

**"Always knew you were a feisty one inside." Race smirked.**

**"Can you do it, Anthony? Please?"**

**"Alright." He said, shaking his head. "If Jack ever finds out about this – "**

**"He won't." I assured him, all smiles. "Another thing – about the price – "**

**"Don't worry about it. Consider it a late and ironic wedding present to both of you." He said wickedly.**

**"Race! You are terrible!" I screeched, mock-slapping him on the face.**

**"I know." He smiled. "Alright, I'll get started right away. Come back to me in two days, I'll have the information by then."**

**Those couple of days passed by in such antagonizing slowness I thought the world would end. Jack was still cold and distant, kissing me out of habit and late for dinner every night. He bought a new cologne, one he had never worn before, and his clothes often smelled of a perfume I know I wasn't wearing. Two days later to the minute I was back in Race's dingy office.**

**"Got the goods?" I asked anxiously, pacing the room.**

**"Ah, well…………."**

**"Race! Tell me everything!" I yelled, pointing a shaking finger at him. "I've been in hell for two days! Don't make me wait any longer!"**

**"Alright." He sighed heavily and sucked on his cigar. "Jack is having an affair – "**

**"I knew it, the bastard – "**

**"With a woman named Angelina Specks. Do you know her?"**

**"No, I don't." I said thoughtfully. "Who is she?"**

**"She's another reporter for the World. Apparently, the only woman there. Quiet a sex goddess, so I hear. They have been seeing each other for the last five months, meeting in an apartments on the West Side. Here's the address – "**

**He rattled off some numbers that meant nothing to me.**

**"Higgins, I want details. Evidence."**

**Shrugging, he produced a pink slip of stationary, a hair comb, a bill and a pair of panties.**

**"This," He said, pointing to the stationary, "Is a note from this Angelina to Jack. You can read it for yourself. I found it in the pocket of his pants."**

**"How did you get to his pants?" I asked, confused.**

**"In your apartment. I picked the lock. As I was saying, this hair comb I found in his sock drawer, filled with black hair. Neither you nor Jack has black hair; Angelina does. This bill is for the Hotel Plaza back in May, registered under the name Mr. And Mrs. Spock. And these panties," he held up the pink garment with a devilish wink, "I somehow cant picture you wearing."**

**I was so mad the world was red for a minute before I gained my bearings. "I am going to kill him." I said through clenched teeth, snapping up the evidence and flouncing out of there after a hasty thank you to Race.**

**Revenge was not long in coming.**

*******************************************************

The questions continue; she is growing tired of them but forces herself to stay awake. Officer Black has joined them, standing next to her chair.

"Do you know of your husband had any enemies?"

"I don't think so………." She says faintly.

"What could a possible motive for the murder be, do you have any idea?" He looks at her again, with a harsh gaze.

"I'm sorry, Officer, this has been a stressful day…………I don't suppose we could continue tomorrow?" She asks.

"I'm sorry, better sooner than later. Did your husband have any relatives?"

"Yes, his father was Matt Sullivan. He is in prison now."

"Interesting………….." O'Connor mutters. "You realize that your husband was shot with a .45, pretty hard to come buy in these parts. It was a decorated one too, handmade, expensive. We found it right next to the body."

"That's……horrible." She whispers.

"I think that's enough for now." O'Connor says, realizing he is not making any headway. "I will get back to you within the next couple of days. Don't worry," he says comfortingly, "we'll find the man who killed your husband."

They would never find the man who killed Jack……………….

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It means the world to me! *sniff* 

**Bottles**: Yeah, I tried saving this as HTML. Still didn't work – I guess it's too long. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it! And I'm glad Sarah don't make you wanna vomit. I actually like Sarah. *blushes*

**Rumor**: Here's more, my dear! I got this idea from a very weird convo, though I have never been married.

**Omni: **But don't we all love Jack when hes……..bad?

**Spotted One: **????cant imagine what happened here.??? I kinda miss the ???, too. You ????know??? Ha, I was laughing my a—off. Hehe. ?????

**Black Fire: **Don't give the whole thing away! *slap* Keep your mouth shut! Lol, just kidding, your just too smart for me.

**Ember: **Darling, here's more, just like you asked for!

**Appolliana: **Maybe Jack gets snuffed out, maybe not. Hehe, I'll never tell.

**Thumbsicker Snitch**: No! Not Snitch on my sorry a--! He's supposed to be on Skittery's sorry a--! (sorry, I couldn't resist.)


	3. Part III

Sorry, everyone, about the bold parts. I know it's annoying, but italics don't work for some reason and I gotta do this. So, everyone, enjoy this last installment! J

**I debated how to kill Jack for days.**

**It was terribly hard, sitting there at meals with him, sleeping with him, talking to him day after day, holding myself back from ripping his eyes out right there and then.**

**How dare he do this to me? How dare he forsake the vows we had taken, pledged to each other? Who the hell did he think he was?**

**No one like that deserved to live. You defy me, you die.**

**Emily was my biggest rock during those time. Of course, I never told her about my plans for revenge. But she listening through my rants and raves, while all while I was thinking – gun, poison, or knife?**

**I finally decided on the gun because I knew where one was and how to get it. Poison would be easily traced to me – Race had assured me no one else knew about the affair and I was the only one with the opportunity. And a knife was simply too messy.**

**The gun was from a shop I frequented a few blocks from my apartment. The little shop sold all typed of oddities, and this little gun had caught my eyes a few weeks back. It was pretty, with a shiny white handle and enamel on the sides. Small, it was easy to steal. I just slipped it into my basket and sailed out of there, after buying a little glass jar to divert suspicion. No one even looked at me twice.**

**It even had bullets in it, and I knew how to shoot - David had shown me one summer when we went to the country. Now all that was left was how to do it.**

**I knew Jack came home late – for the past few weeks he had been walking in at nine o'clock or later. What did he think I was, stupid? I wouldn't realize that surely you don't need to be out late EVERY night for work?.**

**The date was set for a Monday – it was the easiest day for me to leave the apartment and also the day Jack came home the earliest. This way, I would be able to shoot him and come home long before they discovered the body.**

**How to lure Jack into a deserted alley? The possibilities were endless, but so was the possibility that something would go wrong. He must come home early that day because Angelina was busy that night. So maybe I could forge a note to Jack, saying I was Angelina, to meet me in the handy little alley I knew about, the one I used to use to follow to Jack to and from work?**

**         But what if Jack saw Angelina before Monday night, and mentioned it to her? After much thought, I decided to take the risks and composed this note:**

**                  Dearest Jack.**

**                  Please meet me in the alley at the corner of 7th and 64th. You know the one, with the big box in front that hides everything inside from view? Please come, dearest. 8:30 sharp. It's something special. Don't mention it to anyone – not even to me. It's too secret to be spoken of anytime before we meet.**

**                  Always,**

**                  Angelina**

**         I had read the note that she had written to my husband, and copied out the language and handwriting as best I could. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice that it wasn't on pink stationery and the words were a little stiff. Jack had no idea I knew about him, so he had no reason to suspect.**

**         Now I needed an alibi. I had less than a week to find one. The gun was loaded and the note was under my mattress, waiting. All that was missing was a rock-solid excuse.**

**         After a long time thinking, I hit upon an idea. The alley was only a few blocks from my house, taking about three minutes to get there at a fast walk – less if I ran. I invited myself to the Johnson's (they lived on the bottom floor, underneath us)  for dinner, who had the advantage of being old and on the ground floor, with a rather large washroom window. I said Jack was not going to be home that night – away on business – and it got awfully lonely by myself.**

** If all went according to plan, I would slip out at one point after the meal – it was called for seven – and be back within ten minutes. **

**         How long does it take to shoot someone?**

**         Thank God, everything went well. My nerves were shot by Monday morning, hands shaking as I served Jack his coffee. I had slipped the note into his jacket pocket the night before. He had surely read it by now.**

**         It hurt me to see him all dreamy eyed and relaxed, yet distant. He wasn't thinking about me, his wife; he was thinking about some hussy.**

**         My resolve strengthened considerable by the time Jack left, after a cold kiss on the cheek. **

**         It was easy to kill someone, I thought. Easy.**

**         I went to the Johnson's; dinner was boring and only made make me more nervous. When coffee was served, I excused myself from the table to use the washroom and whispered to Mrs. Johnson on the way out, "Please don't be worried if I am awhile. I think I might be……yes, carrying child………and you know the problems that come along with that…………." I smiled sadly at the old woman's delighted smile and hurried off.**

**         The gun was in my purse, along with a glove. I wiped off any fingerprints and pulled on the glove. I stripped my fancy dinner jacket off and slid open the window. The night was clear, stars bright and far away.**

**         I ran faster than I ever had before, driven by adrenaline and nervousness. Perhaps even a little bit of fear. But how would I ever get caught? The weapon was to be disposed of, there was no evidence. Not a single bit.**

**         Finally, I reached the alley. I crept along the wall, dark with shadows. It was 8:29.**

**         At 8:30, I heard footsteps, and saw Jack step into the moonlight from the other side of the alley. My heart sank.**

**         Up until that point, I would have believed Jack if he denied it. If he wouldn't have come that night, I would have forgiven him in time and gone on with my life. But this, Jack visibly going behind my back  - even if I had set it up – sealed his doom.**

**         "Angelina?" He called softly into the dark alley. "Darling, you can come out now."**

**         He used to call me darling.**

**         I stepped out from behind the corner and came into the light, about eight feet away from him.**

**         "Hello, Jack." I smiled, and gripped the gun in my hand, hidden in the fold of my skirt.**

**         "Sarah? What – " Jack was in shock, still as stone. Caught in the act.**

**         "Did you actually think I wouldn't find out?" I asked, smiling sadly and I raised my arm and cocked the gun.**

**         "Sarah, your crazy. Put the gun down." Jack said hoarsely, attempting to grab it from me. **

**         He didn't even try to deny it.**

**         "You bastard." I hissed. "No one will ever get away with treating my like that. No one."**

**         "I'm sorry – "**

**         "No, no you are not." I said, my voice raising. "You married ME! ME! How dare you go behind my back? Break the vows you promised………….."The gun began to shake as I started to crumble.**

**         "Sarah." Jack said, sensing hesitation. "We can work this out, it's over, I was going to break if off tonight anyway." He smiled charmingly. "Now, put the gun down."**

**         "Really?" I sniffed, steadying my arm. "That's too bad."**

**         "What?" He frowned, hazel eyes that I had once loved darkening. "Dearest – "**

**         Dearest. I never wanted to hear that word again.**

**         "Dearest, come on – " He repeated, more forcefully this time, drawing closer.**

**         "Too bad you can't break if off with her." I said, tears clouding my vision. "You're dead."**

**         And I shot him.**

         She climbs tiredly to her apartment, and sees all the little things in it that remind her of Jack. His shirt over the chair, a pencil and reporters pad on the kitchen table. Strangely, it doesn't hurt her to see them.

         She eases into a chair and puts her feet up, rubbing absently on the dark red spot on the bottom of her sleeve. Pinning up he long brown hair, she get comfortable.

         And then the phone rings. Sighing, she goes over to it, wondering who can be calling her at this time of night.

         "Hello?"

         "Oh, Sarah, I just heard………" Emily sobs on the other end. "This must be so hard for you, after everything."

         "Yes." The newly widowed Mrs. Sarah Jacobs Kelly answerers. "Yes, it is."

         And she sits down on the couch with the phone, smiling inside and crying with her sister-in-law – crying artificial tears.

**********

Ok, the shoutouts. The best part, right?

**Ember: **Ok, darling here you go! The conclusion!

**Rumor**: I hope whoever you get married, THIS don't happen to you. J

**Spotted One**: btw, how's glow going? Anyway, thanks for all the reviews – I know you read it already!

**Black Fire** (sorry, its shorter than your new name.): Yeah, I liked Race too as the PI. I didn't know who I was gonna use, but when I started tyoing he just evolved. Perfect casting, no?

**Ty**: thanks for the review! Sorry bout the bold stuff, but……

**CiCi**: thanks for the review! Now you know who killed him. Case closed.

**Rhap**: Sinful, hmm? I like that word. Well, Jack deserves it, sorry to say.

**Appoliana**: Jack? Suicide? I think not. Lol, that would have been an interesting twist on things………anyway. Hope you enjoyed it as is!


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